


Troublemaker

by startyourbenjens



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:17:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9710747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startyourbenjens/pseuds/startyourbenjens
Summary: 'I would enjoy that yes,' Jake cranes his neck to brush his lips against her forehead. The sweat is slowly starting to cool against her skin but he can still taste its salty aftermath on his tongue. He still tastes her, all parts of her, every expanse that he could run his mouth over lingers now on his lips. ' But he would never agree to it. I can't even imagine broaching the topic with him.'in which Abby Griffin executes a plan to get Marcus Kane into bed with her and her husband.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [convenientmisfires](https://archiveofourown.org/users/convenientmisfires/gifts).



_'I would enjoy that yes,' Jake cranes his neck over to brush his lips against her forehead. The sweat is slowly starting to cool against her skin but he can still taste its salty aftermath on his tongue. He still tastes her, all parts of her, every expanse that he could run his mouth over lingers now on his lips. ' But he would never agree to it. I can't even imagine broaching the topic with him.'_

_In retrospect, he should have known what was to come. He should have known because he knows his wife and more than once has been the recipient of her mischief. But his limbs were thick with the languor of one very intense round of lovemaking following a hectic day that saw both of them needing to alleviate an entire afternoon of stress. His hands had found their way beneath her thighs and her back thudded against the heavy metal wall behind her. Jake loved handling her like this, feeling how small she was beneath his weight. He could pin her hands with one of his, rest her on his thigh while free hand ran inside her shirt. Fortunately, Abby loved it too._

_Almost as much as she loved turning him, her husband and easily twice her size or more, to putty beneath her wondrously talented fingers._

_Abby snuggles closer to him, eyes closed as she lounges against his shoulder while fingers spread themselves across his chest._

 

\----------------------

 

It starts with calling him to the Sick Bay, citing regulatory annual inspection data loss. Apparently his file was corrupted while they were working on a gene sequencing project seeking to identify an individuals prone to low bone density. That's what she tells him, at least, with a stern face through the video communication screen, pretending to be interested in a dozen other things going on around her. In truth, Medical is surprisingly quiet. Jackson is on his lunch hour and unless someone rushes in with an emergency, she's able to easily take a few minutes away from her other tasks to attend to this _data loss_ business. Across the screen, Marcus sighs, dark hues downcast, debating on if this is a worthwhile way to spend his time. When he looks up at her again, Abby takes a careful note of the rich coffee color his eyes that shine so vibrantly across the screen.

“When do you need me by?”

“Do you have time now? It only takes a few minutes. Then we can move beyond this and I promise, Marcus, I won't bother you again.”

A slight lie. If she does bother him, it's going to be in the way she hopes he'll _want_ to be bothered.

“See you in five.” She clicks the screen off without giving him time to answer. She has learned it's better to deal in absolutes with Marcus Kane. The man is frustratingly prone to arguing even on the simplest of things. Five minutes would become thirty minutes if she gave him the opportunity to debate it.

Marcus arrives in four minutes.

Abby runs him through the gauntlet of standardized tests, making small talk about how he should get at least part of his routine physical done while he's here. “Efficiency.” She quips at him, fingers brushing the defined curve of his arm. “Take your jacket off.”

If Marcus is surprised, he lets it show only it in the raise of a thick, dark brow and a roll of his eyes but does as he's instructed. Normally, Abby would avert her eyes any time a patient undresses. Under ordinary circumstances, she's a consummate professional who can look at the naked human body and see only a patient, only a diagnosis or symptoms but she's not here to impress him with her professionalism. And she only feels _moderately guilty_ about abusing her position for personal gain. So she doesn't look away, she watches as the black leather rolls off his shoulders, revealing a long sleeve shirt underneath with years of tatters and holes adorning it's threadbare fabric. Black as well. Abby licks her lips, drawing bottom lip through her teeth quickly. Marcus' eyes darken as he watches her, that rich coffee turning to a bitter brew. He's observant, of course, he has to be for his job on the Ark as commander and councilor. Abby has been on the council with him for far too long to be _ignorant_ of this fact. She can almost see the pieces locking together as he files away the information in the same manner as she but unlike her, Marcus does not know her intentions in this game. Game, set, _match_.

Abby moves with a confidence belying how her pulse is beginning to race, stepping forward to stand between his legs as he sits on the edge of the medical cot. Marcus makes path for her easily but only because he is too shocked to argue against her. She likes it. She might try a similar tactic next time they're at odds with each other at over something serious and she can't get him to stop talking.

There are a lot of ways she has thought about shutting up Marcus Kane.

Abby is not ignorant to the fact that there is a chance that he could get angry by her overt attentions, that this will all be over in a matter of minutes and Abby could be personally embarrassed for the rest of her days. She imagines council meetings sitting across from him, a permanent crimson flush to her cheeks as she tries to ignore the sting of his rejection.

Abby also imagines sitting across from him if this goes according to plan, imagines a red flush on her _and_ on him. She wonders if his Adam's apple tastes as good as it looks.

“ Mmh. ” Marcus makes a noise of slight discomfort as she tucks her stethoscope beneath his shirt, hand drifting up from the bottom of his worn shirt and exposing the light amber of skin beneath. Many on the Ark were of fairer skin but Marcus has this delightful olive hue to him from generations of blessedly good genetics. There's a trail of dark brown hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his uniform slacks. Abby imagines Jake's large, brawny hand following it down. Jake is _very good_ with his hands and she knows if given the chance, Marcus would enjoy them as much as she has over the years.

But Abby isn't so bad herself when it comes to using her hands for pleasure and so while she holds one hand beneath his shirt, pressing medical equipment to his chest, she casually rests the other upon his leg. “Breathe in. And out.” It's comparatively low to where she wants it to be but it's enough as he shifts beneath her touch, not moving away but subtly trying to take back the control she is stealing from him. Abby keeps brow furrowed, pretending to look without seeing even though she cannot peel her gaze from noticing the hard lines of his neck, the way muscles fall into the chords there and pull taught as she plays with his restraint.

It makes it so much harder to disentangle herself from him but any more and Abby is afraid that she won't be able to maintain her own cover. She steps back quickly, taking away her hands and shifting out of the cradle of his legs upon the cot to make notes upon a digital pad. “Right, all clear. I'll analyze the data and get back to you later this week with your results.”

Marcus is still sitting with legs splayed just so, knuckles gripping the cot's edge when she looks back at him.

 

 

 

The next day is an exercise in will power. Jake already told her that he would be working through his lunch breaks that week, unable to join her in her office as they were accustomed to doing. It was one of her favorite traditions, sharing a simple meal with her husband for one hour out of their busy day but today, because she had a purpose, she was okay with skipping the easy conversation for something more challenging.

She doesn't ask if he was saving that chair for anyone and doesn't bother with pleasantries of permission. He might say ' _no'_ or leave and this all worked much better if she caught him as he is, _off guard_. Abby sits next to him at the table in the corner of the room where Marcus has always preferred to take his meals. He didn't invite conversation with his sour disposition but this works better for her when she asks him simple questions about his day or new recruits whose files she had reviewed for their physical examinations. Her fingers are squeezing the curve of a defined bicep as she turns and feigns excitement at casual points in her regaling. Beneath the table she sits close to him, her thigh touching his, knocking against it over and over again. Short moments and Marcus is tense, fork gripped tightly within whitened knuckles. She's starting to like the sight of his hands tensed, enjoys it more because she sees it as a an accomplishment leading to a bigger reward.

A few more questions and his answers have devolved to one or two word sentences. It's been at least three minutes since he's even bothered to eat anything.

But Abby is also getting impatient. Yesterday it was the firm muscle of his thighs she felt around her and today it's the realization that more of Marcus may be defined than she initially anticipated. Even through his customary jacket she can identify the unyielding play of sinew on his bones. Has he always been so solid to the touch? Has she ever truly touched him before or have her fingertips spent a lifetime without running along the rough hewed surface of Marcus Kane? Yes, Abby is loathe to leave when she can tell he's losing patience as well but if her plan is to work then this must go in steps. _Not today._ So she makes quick work of her goodbyes on an excuse of getting back to medical but not before her hand rests on his thigh, brushing inward quickly and using it to push herself upward.

She can't look back to see his face to know if the sound was a groan or a growl but it lingers in her mind when she goes to find Jake minutes later, hands running inside his shirt as her lips suck bruises into his shoulders.

The next two days run in the same pattern. Abby makes excuses to join Marcus at lunch, finds reasons anew to talk animatedly with her hands, letting them land on his arm again, his shoulders, brushing across his chest as she reaches for something over the table. At one point she makes a show of stealing a bite of food from his plate, using his own fork to lift a bite of imitation protein-paste chicken into her mouth before making a very audible hum of approval. It tastes _terrible_ but it's worth it when she hears the cough that strains from his throat and he turns his head to glare at her.

The smile she's donning is part real and part mockery. She is more than pleased with the results of her teasing but is trying to be subtle, to not show anything more than friendly interest to any who might look at them. Yet when she turns her gaze to look at him she feels the breath leave her lungs. The earthy gaze that normally greets her has burned to a smoldering ash that stares at her with nothing less than an overwhelming warning. Has she ever had his attention so razored upon her as it is now? No, she would have noticed. It's impossible to ignore the fire stoked inside that heated stare. Abby looks away, cowed and unable to meet his gaze any longer. Not here. No, she wants to feel it in the privacy of her chambers, wants whatever is lurking behind that ebon fire unfettered by the clatter of people around them.

_“Abby,”_ the voice that comes through is low and rough, edged with a warmth she can't turn away from. She's never been this close to Marcus _like this_ despite her games. She's been sitting next to him for days but everything was in the brush of hands and fingers. Now as he draws her attention back to him, they stare at each other and her world is upended by the confrontation of how much he truly desires her and how she desires him. Her want for him, her brazen caresses that try to learn the feeling of Marcus are put forward wordlessly. He's questioning her by the mere mention of her own name, calling her out, cautioning her that if this is not what she wants, she needs to _stop_.

It _is_ what she wanted, isn't it? It's what she has worked for these last four days was to wind Marcus up into a frenzy.

She wasn't prepared for how well it would _work_.

Beneath the table it is Abby's turn to jump when his hand slips quietly onto her thigh. Not just sitting on her thigh, no, but moving and sliding til his fingertips are tracing along the inseam of her worn denim jeans. Heat is pooling between her legs and she knows herself well enough to know that she's wet already from only this simple touch. Marcus Kane looking at her with eyes dark as coal while his fingers draw lines less than inch from the apex of her thighs is swiftly wreaking havoc of her self control. Canines dig into her lip and Abby slips, composure breaking when her eyes close and she rolls her hips forward in her chair, desperately needing more of him right now, right away.

_God if he would only. . ._

“Do you want to tell me what this is about?” His hand stops and it's worse than when it was moving. If he wanted to, Marcus could stretch out his fingers and his pinky and ringfinger would touch her exactly where she's craving to be touched. Abby opens her eyes, embarrassed by her momentary loss. Her breathing is erratic as she struggles to regulate it, knows by the way his eyes dart down to her chest that every heavy inhale sends her breast rising from the low cut of her blue henley blouse. She envisions his mouth on her, that same low voice making her tremble now forcing her to writhe later as it draws along her skin. He's imagining it too or something like it. Abby is aching to know what Marcus is thinking about right now, what filthy images his mind could conjure as he sits next to her with his fingers impossibly close yet all too far away. _Oh god_ she wants that more than anything, more than her next breath is to let Marcus Kane slide his hand beneath her panties until her body shakes and her vision blackens.

But that's not what's supposed to happen. Abby has a plan on a very strict timetable that he is utterly ruining.

“Abby?”

_Please stop,_ she thinks, don't say her name or this panting fervor he has wound her to may crash before she's ready. She's not sure she can handle hearing anything from his dulcet tones or watching the way his lips move around her name.

There's a slight shake of her head causing a few loose tendrils of hair to drop around her face, tickling her neck and doing nothing but heightening the shivers already lighting her nerves on fire. Abby draws her gaze down from his eyes over his lips to watch the calm of his breathing, belying the tension in his jaw until she looks openly beneath his waistline, lets her gaze rove over the tented zipper of his pressed cargos. “Nothing _yet_.”

This time when Abby stands to leave she lets her hand press firmly against the heavy arousal straining in his trousers. The contact is brief because she's afraid of what might happen if she allows herself to linger a second longer than strictly necessary but it's enough for her to feel the way he fills the space beneath her palm as her fingers drag away until she's gone. Marcus growls her name again in rich, vibrantly hot syllables but she is already leaving, trying not to run as she leaves her tray in the recycler to return to the safety of Sick Bay.

Abby works late in Medical that evening, willing her nerves to return to normal levels while she distracts herself in paperwork and menial tasks. She's almost starting to believe that it's working when she turns and feels a burst of the cool, artificial air tickle against her skin and the phantom sensation of Marcus is teasing her again with notions of his breath on her neck even though she couldn't feel that it all—could she? Abby isn't so sure anymore. Her memories of what actually happened are clouding with her wants. She can sense him everywhere on her body, brushing against her side as she tries to move carefully through the emptied Sick Bay, beneath her hands again when she rests on the same cot she had examined him at days ago. She wonders what his reaction would have been if she had sunk to her knees before him in that moment, had tasted what she has only had the barest contact with that afternoon. What would Marcus Kane look like with his cock in her mouth? Would his head fall back, eyes closed and mouth open as she ran her tongue across his flesh? Or would he look down at her with those same burning amber hues she saw earlier?

_Yes_ , she knows, Marcus would watch her. His hands would tangle themselves into the long tresses of her hair, pulling it out of the way so that he could see as she wrapped her lips around him.

The chime of a video communication startles her so much that she drops the paperwork and equipment she was clutching to her chest. Abby is _very grateful_ to be the only person in Sick Bay.

“Hey baby.”

_Jake_. Stars, how she loves him. Her sweet husband who is oblivious to the utter hell she has been subjecting herself to this week. Abby smiles at the viewscreen.

“Hey there,” she murmurs with heart swelling with fondness. Her eyes flicker to the timestamp in the corner. “Is it really that late? Jake, I'm sorry. I didn't even realize --”

Jake is already laughing and shaking his head, dirtied blond locks falling easily around his face. She loves it when he smiles. He's so youthful, like the boy she stole kisses from in the abandoned shuttle bays. “I'm just making sure you didn't fall asleep there. Do you want me to meet you there? I can walk you home.”

It was one of his endearing traits, this never-ending romance he had for her. How he would leave the comfort of their chambers at this late hour just to walk back home with her. Abby shakes her head, touching the screen where his dimples would be.

“No, I'll head home now. See you soon.”

Abby thanks her stars for Jake as she packs up the dropped equipment and places it haplessly on her desk. She'll be back to it in a few short hours when morning and their circadian lighting draw her back to consciousness. Jake, who forces her to leave work because he knows how easy it is for her to stay there until the work is done. But it's never done, not all of it, not on a space station full of people and limited supplies to heal them. What hours are not spent on actually treating patients are immersed in discovering new methods of treatment or, in Abby's case, leading her team on preventative measures. If they could just continue their work with genetic observations to identify certain sequences showing a predisposition to these afflictions, it could mean saving them years of misdiagnosis and taking an active stance in being able to keep them healthier, keeping them alive longer. It could be the difference between generations of reaching the ground, grandparents able to see it with their grandchildren. It's such a rare thing to find on the Ark, grandparents.

She suspects it could one day be the same for her. The research isn't there and she and Jake haven't even started a family yet but--

Abby isn't looking where she's walking once she's stepped outside of Medical. She didn't think she had to. It's late and there shouldn't be people roaming the halls at this hour, not on this path to her chambers. This is a quiet path of mostly emptied storage chambers and a few utility rooms. Their careful population control meant that certain rooms had gone to the wayside as they had less need for them than initially anticipated.

“What are you doing?”

**Oh**. _Marcus_. Of course it would be him. Of course just when she's finally able to stop wondering about how his hair would feel between her fingers, he has to literally crash back into her. Abby looks up at him, regaining her senses and her balance. The first thing she notices is that he's... wet? There's moisture clinging to his forehead and dripping down his neck beneath unkempt dark brown locks turned black with the droplets of water falling from them. It's not plastered back against his skull as he usually styles it but messy and disheveled with little curls starting to form on against his face.

“Abby?” He's speaking again. His breathing is heavy. That same black shirt is clinging to his skin and Abby knows she was right in assuming the defined ridges of his arms. Where had he been?

The training center? At this hour?

“I was on my way home. I—I just left Medical.” She's so unprepared for this meeting. All her run ins with him this week were meticulously planned to the time she could arrive and when she could leave. Abby had braced herself mentally and physically for each encounter and still at times she found herself weak against an onslaught of desire for him. This was not helping. “ You were what--training?”

What is she doing? Casual conversation with Marcus after she had openly groped him this afternoon? No, she was ruining all the hard work she had put into this idea but Abby couldn't figure out how to make her words form anything else, stunned by his presence and distraught by the urge to chase away the slick wetness at his neck with her tongue.

“Every night this week.” Marcus nods. There's an implication between the breath of his words that she doesn't miss.

Abby blushes, lips curling into a smile before she can stop herself. God, how is he so calm? Abby's hands are tucked across her chest, arms crossed tightly together. She's afraid if she doesn't keep them occupied now they might find their way into places they shouldn't be. She has to go home now or else she might not make it back tonight.

_“You,--”_

_“Well, I,”_

Fuck. Abby has the grace to pause, allowing him to first for a change but it's apparently the wrong move because as soon as her mouth closes it opens again but this time Marcus is against it. He's got his hands on her waist and he's backed them against the far wall behind her. And Stars, he's kissing her and Marcus is _really good at kissing her_. His lips are firm and they drag in pleasant ripples against her own, breaking down her flimsy barriers until her arms are wrapped about his neck and he has one of her legs tucked tightly around his waist. His hands drive a path of insanity against her, moving with a fevered purpose, thumbs tickling the edge of her breasts through her shirt. Her hands are less careful, preferring to run everywhere on him, unable to decide which part of him she wants to touch the most. There is no place that his hands find that is not deliberate in how it drives her higher into this storm of indulgence. Abby doesn't realize that both of her legs are squeezing around him until his mouth is kissing her breasts and his tongue is dipping beneath the sloped collar of her shirt, grazing just across the pebbled peak. She is supported by his weight and grinding against the cock straining inside his pants.

He shifts and two fingers now trail along her heated flesh through the soaked fabric of her underwear.

Marcus moans and it's a guttural, hollow sound that has her whimpering before she can stop herself. His head falls against her chest, nose buried in the valley between her breasts with his hair clinging to her equally drenched skin. She likes it, she knows, seeing those dark strands against her body.

“Christ, you're so _wet_ , Abby.”

And she is. She has been all day because she woke up knowing what she was going to do this morning, knowing that she was going to touch him and the thought alone made her and Jake late to their shifts, neither complaining as they left each other with lazy, languorous kisses.

_Jake_.

**Shit**.

“Marcus,” her hands push against his shoulders and it breaks her when he steps back so easily. Feet find the ground in heavy thuds, wind knocked from her lungs. Abby's body is thrumming with a need and struck by the loss of his body against her. Marcus is regarding her with an ugly mixture of hurt and shame falling over his eyes. No, that's not it, she needs to tell him. This isn't rejection. It's just--

“ Later,” Abby steps forward, closing the distance he created between them and tracing her finger along his jaw. His eyes drift closed beneath her touch. Abby feels a sharp pang deep in her chest. How starved for affection is this man? She feels an unspeakable urge to immerse him in affectionate caresses, to bring him back to life beneath her palms. Instead, she leans forward onto the tips of her toes and draws a lazy, promising kiss upon his slack lips. “ Tomorrow.”

 

\--------------------

 

Tomorrow is an invitation to join her for lunch in her chambers.

The chambers she shares with her husband whom Marcus has seemed perfectly content to ignore thus far. Marcus and Jake are friends in the faintest sense. They have worked together and know each other as well as any two people will on a station of limited confines. Marcus has been to their chambers before, albeit never in their actual bedroom, and has more than once been part of a social gathering with some of their other friends as well. She's seen them talking around glasses of synthetic alcohol, able to smile easily but little more than that and they are strangers. Their greatest similarity is that they are leaders among their people and for that, there is a different sort of intimacy between the two that only Abby sees. She sees the weight that rests upon their shoulders and how each man carries it with a quiet dignity. It endears her to them each in their own ways.

This is something different, however, as far as Marcus is aware. This is him coming into their home to sleep with another man's wife.

Well, not _sleep_ , exactly.

She is naked after all. Or, mostly. She's opted to leave on her favorite set of matching red bra and panties beneath a thin robe.

It excites her to stand before him, so bare, so vulnerable while he's still clothed. She recognizes the subtle signs that say he has tried to be more open because of this moment. His jacket, for example, remains unzipped and she is granted easy view of the tight dark shirt beneath, tucked beneath his belt. Abby would be lying if she said she didn't wish sometimes that Jake didn't need to wear such a garment as well. She imagines both of them filling out the fitting material while she stands naked between them, their lips on her skin, making her tremble.

It's too much and Abby's hands land on the muscles she was admiring, nails raking down until they tease at the hem of his shirt, scratching against the skin beneath, twisting that previously admired line of short hairs trailing downward.

“I want you, Marcus,” Abby leans forward on the tips of her toes, mimicking the kiss she gave him yesterday before running home, here, to her husband. She's not running now. She's leaning closer, letting her hands run in all the places she's been craving all week. More than that, she thinks. _Years_. A conversation shared idly with her husband and she has to wonder when she first found Marcus Kane attractive, when did she first notice how much more than brown but hickory his eyes are and how distracting it is when he swallows his words after biting back a sharp comment. She needs to feel the slick of his hair beneath her fingers, to muss those always perfect locks back into disarray as she saw them last night. She wants to see Marcus Kane undone by her hands.

Marcus seems to have the same idea because his hands are pushing the robe from her shoulders and he's swearing her name and all the stars when she stands before him in the red lace garments, breasts filling out the cups amply. Abby finds herself thrust backward again, smiling as his lips crush against her own. And _oh, this_ is kissing Marcus Kane. The taste of what she had last night but better, richer. The flavor of his lips is vibrant, a heady cinnamon that she chases eagerly, that he gives willingly. Marcus has been denied for hours after days of build up and he pours it all into this moment.

When his tongue touches her lips, she feels lightning through her veins.

When she opens her mouth and suddenly her tongue is clashing with his, there's a moan lost somewhere in the minuscule space between them.

When the hands that were pushing her back are suddenly bruising beneath her thighs, lifting her higher and he grinds himself against her so hard, she can feel the very heavy, very real impress of his cock straining forward to meet her. Head thrown back, Abby is gasping for air while Marcus shifts his attentions down her jaw unto her neck. Teeth bare and bite hard into her pulse which has Abby seeing stars behind her vision. “ Oh god, Marcus.”

“You teased me for _days_ , Abby, “ Marcus snarls the words against the hollow of her throat. Vibrations reverberate until they tingle on her lips. Abby bites down hard, worrying the plump red skin as Marcus continues. “You think you can just tease people like that. Touch me like that for your own amusement. There are _consequences_ , Abby.” He bites her name into the skin above her breast ere his tongue swipes out to trace the worried flesh, tickling so close to where she wants it, where it was last night. In his hands her hips are writhing, curling and pressing forward to get more of the friction he offers her.

“I'm here now,” she breathes into his mouth, nails scoring along his neck leaving lines of red and white in their wake. Marcus shudders and she's finally starting to understand these pieces of him, why he let her torture him for days and why he shakes when pain turns to pleasure. Abby slides down his front, letting both feet firmly onto the floor. She's pulling his shirt over his head and casting it aside then diving her fingers to his waistband, fumbling with clinking belt buckle. “Let me make it up to you.”

Abby palms him through his shorts.

“ _Fuck_.”

It's a brief but halting trip to the bedroom from her living room and it's made longer by the way they stop to devour each other, to run their hands along all the newly exposed parts when clothing is haplessly discarded. The red bra with the tearing lace cups is left on the dining table and Marcus' boots land on opposite sides of her bedroom door. When Abby pushes him down onto the bed she shares with Jake, they're naked and she can't stop staring at the hard planes of Marcus Kane. He's not bony, no. Marcus has far too much raw muscle adorning these long lines of his body for her to say that but there are edges of him that cascade beneath this olive and honey skin and protrude to cut along her body. She could break herself upon the brink of him if she is not careful.

Marcus wants to say something but Abby won't let him. She silences him by setting her self astride his thighs, reveling in dragging herself along his length til he is hissing and impossibly hard between her legs. “Don't tease me,” he warns with his hands on her thighs. Mouth open, she looks at him and sees how he is watching her. That warning is there again, the dare that says she shouldn't test his patience because she will not win. Not this time. Abby smirks, happy to conceded victory to him if this is what it means. She sinks herself slowly down, feeling him set her on fire with every movement sliding deeper inside her.

God she's tight. Tight and hot and Marcus can feel how his eyes shut hard at the first sensation of being inside of her. He waits, willing his breathing to return to normal or this will be over much faster than he wants. He thought about it all week, how she would feel under him. Now she's on top of him, riding him in these short curls of her hips and he can't believe he's actually here.

Abby has her eyes closed, feeling how Marcus stretches her and it's so different from Jake. Not bad, not necessarily better but..different. Delicious in its own way how her hands fit differently upon his chest, how the edges of his rib cage are more present beneath her hands.

“Abby?”

Ah. There he is.

Marcus wasn't the only person Abby had invited to a special lunch this afternoon. Jake has undoubtedly found the trail of clothing, heard the muffled sounds coming from their bedroom and now has found the fruit of her labors this week.

“Jake!” Marcus is trying to move but Abby rushes to urge him down with her hands upon his forearms, guiding him back to the bed as he looks between them. She can't see Jake but she _knows_ him. She can hear his muffled laughter from somewhere far behind her. It's part of why she loves him. Because he _knows_ her. Because only her wonderful, sexy husband could walk in on this scene and know exactly what is going on without her needing to tell him. Yet beneath her Marcus is visibly uncomfortable, gaze shifting between them both while his jaw is clenched as he waits to form the right words, undoubtedly seeing Jake's amusement and torn with Abby's still present, still glowing arousal.

She rolls her hips again and Marcus is caught so off guard he actually hisses, head falling back against the pillow. Her hands are loose on his arms, giving him back the power to move if he wanted. Her lips find his as she leans forward, breasts pressed against him, tickled by the patches of dark hair spattered across his skin. “You don't have to leave, Marcus. I won't stop you if you want to go but you don't have to. _We_ want you here.”

Marcus is staring at her, panting into her mouth as Abby continues to pleasure herself on him with each word. He's trying to comprehend what she's saying through the roils of fire shooting into his brain starting from where his cock is still snug inside her, feeling her as she lifts herself up only to fall back down. She's so hot and, more than just this week, Marcus has wanted her for _years_. He likes getting her angry at council meetings, he lives for making that crimson hue stain her cheeks as all of her energy is directed at him. And Jake. . .

It strikes him at first how he's even _considering_ Jake. How he's not adamantly opposed to the larger man waiting in the doorway to their bedroom. Jake, who lives here, is waiting on _him_ for permission while Marcus fucks his wife in their bed. Jake who is biting his lip and looking at them like he can't decide which one he wants more.

_Jake._

“Do you want me to keep going, Marcus?” Abby rolls her hips and her head falls back at the way he fills her, the heady feeling of Marcus Kane between her thighs. He's so good like this, so utterly Marcus. Jake is broader, husky from shoulder to shoulder and she loves the feeling of her husband's sturdy body beneath her lither frame, likes the way her legs stretch wide to accommodate him and how it drives her wild being spread like that for him. Marcus is made of more lean muscle, hard edges that tense beneath her fingertips that drag down his chest till they rest upon the jagged planes of his abdomen, fingers tickling in those black hairs she spotted trailing downward days ago. Marcus is longer than Jake and when she curls herself inward – _oh_ – and he thrusts his hips just like that it touches something deep inside her that sends shivers along her spine as her mouth falls slack. “ Mmm, ” the hum of approval leaves her and fills the space between them. She has to focus to open her eyes and look down at him. They've come so far but she won't force this on him. She wants this to be his choice and god does she want him to choose this so badly. “Tell me you don't and I'll stop. Marcus, tell me--”

Abby doesn't notice when his knees rise but feels it the instant his cock surges deeper inside her. She cries out, overwhelmed as he finds that favorite spot. That spot Jake normally finds with his fingers tucked inside her while his lips suck sloppily upon her clit to drive her into a frenzy after she's already had at least one orgasm and he is determined to chase her into another. Marcus is driving himself harder into her over and over again, hitting that spot with a damning fervor. He's punishing her, she realizes, for this. _Consequences_ , he had said.

This is a consequence she will gladly suffer as many times as she can. He's _staying_.

She almost forgot that Jake was in the room too. Jake who had intruded just as she had planned, who she knew would not be upset at this display because they trusted each other, love each other. Jake who came in and knew her plan immediately, laughed because he didn't see it in motion before this moment.

When she feels her husband's heavy form dip the mattress behind her, Marcus slows the movements of his hips. ' _No, no,_ ' Abby wants to scream at him. She was so close and she can feel herself slipping away from that blissful edge. Honeyed hues open to look down at him. Marcus regards her carefully, watching Jake moving behind her. He's naked now and she can't help the purr at the familiar feeling of her husband's body as it presses against her back. He's between their legs, Jake at her back with arms snaking around to touch her while Marcus is still hard, still embedded completely within her quivering flesh. He's not completely opposed to Jake's presence, she knows this because he didn't leave and he still hasn't ran screaming from their bed. If she can just make him comfortable again...

“Touch me,” Abby turns her head, murmuring the word into her husband's neck.

“Yes ma'am,” Jake obliges happily and his breath is warm as it teases the shell of her ear. Abby shivers which runs through Marcus who snarls and drives into her again, thrusting hard as his control is continuously stripped from him with every movement of the couple above. A sob is torn from her at the feeling and she is desperate to have that again. Large digits drop to cup her breasts, Jake rolling the peak between his fingertips. Abby moans loudly and unabashedly at her husband's ministrations.

_Put on a show for him, Jake. He needs it_.

After years of marriage, Jake never ceases to astound her with how well he knows her because as the sound rips from her throat one of his hands is brushing down her body past her navel to tease into her folds. Abby is shaking, swollen and pushing herself onto him in these halted movements while Jake and Marcus drive her to insanity. Marcus is still impossibly hard and his hips have never quite stopped moving and now Jake is teasing her, dancing just around her clit without actually touching it. Abby is on fire, hips writhing as she tries to recapture the heat of moments ago. Jake pressed at her back, hard already and as she grinds down on Marcus she pushes back on Jake.

Marcus can feel Jake too, can feel the larger man between his legs, thighs in between his own. Can feel the faintest brush of Jake's fingers against his cock as strokes himself in and out of the other man's wife. And he can't stop thinking of her like this. _Jake's wife_. Jake's wife who is here with him now, who Marcus is watching as he twists two fingers gently around rose hued nipples which tears another cry from the woman riding him eagerly. He watches Jake, learning what Abby likes as her mouth falls open in the telling 'o' of appreciation.

Jake moans into Abby's neck but the words are meant for him. “She's close.”

It's true. Abby's hips have stopped moving but not Marcus who thrusts into her with abandon, feeling pressure threatening to overwhelm him. He can feel the way she tightens around him, hears the pleading obscenities falling from her lips as he twists himself against her. Jake is watching him and Marcus can't tear his gaze away from watching both of them from this vantage.

Jake moves his large hand down further and suddenly his palm his rubbing against her clit while his fingers tease where they are joined, touching Abby. Touching _him_.

_Fuck_. Abby doesn't know if it's Marcus or her who cries out first but it's too much. She's crashing hard and her body is grasping onto Marcus like a vice while her hands grapple for purchase, finding the back of Jake's neck, finding Marcus' hand on her hip. They're thrashing helplessly together, each of them drawing out this pleasure as Marcus is bottomed out within her, his release stealing the last vestiges of his control. Loud, unhindered moans of her name and muttered 'yes' are falling openly from his lips. Abby is whimpering with nothing but the force of her husband's hands keep her upright, her own release lulling only to be pushed into a second, smaller orgasm triggered by the sensation of Marcus coming inside her.

It's a relief when Jake lets her go and she can collapse forward. Marcus is remembering to breathe as a boneless languor threatens to overtake him. He likes the way she feels on top of him, like that as she was and like this now. Relaxed in that post-sex haze, the scent of her, a mix of something sterile but also floral, a perfume? in his nostrils.

Jake shifts and his knee brushes Marcus. The other man is trying not to press but even Marcus can see the way his arousal sits heavy between his legs, begging for attention. “Abby,” Marcus runs his fingers down her back. She mumbles something intelligible into his shoulder, drawing a smirk of pride across his face. Jake smiles too and for some reason, it isn't strange at all to Marcus that he could share his amusement at Abby's effortless lethargy with the other man. “ _Jake_ , Abby. _Jake_.”

He's okay with reminding the languid woman on top of him that her husband is still here, still aching from watching them fuck.

Marcus braces his feet against the firm mattress for leverage and gently moves her, flipping her over on top of him so that her back is pressed against his chest. It's different like this. Jake and Marcus are closer than Marcus can ever recall being with him. Jake inches himself nearer, leaning forward to kiss his wife who responds with a sudden enthusiasm as though she is only now remembering that he is there not just for her own pleasure, hands clasping his face as she moans into a kiss with him. Marcus can just see the exchange of tongues between the happy couple as they immerse themselves in this moment.

Yet if they think he is to be forgotten as they kiss leisurely on top of him, Marcus is happy to remind them otherwise. Between their bodies his hands move just as Jake's did earlier, one caressing her breast, the other sliding down to the wetness smeared upon her flesh.

Abby gasps, broken from her kiss with her husband as her body bows at the slightest pressure.

“Show me what she likes,” Marcus whispers against her ear, mouth inches from Jake's swollen lips. Abby's legs are splayed by the gentle push of Marcus who touches and teases her while Jake begins a ritual of his favorite ways to make his wife howl with absolute abandon. It starts with her breasts. Marcus is still thumbing gently at one and so Jake takes the other, the both of them teasing the tender flesh, Jake licking the fallen sweat from her skin, tickling the pebbled peak til he can nip it between his teeth.

On top of him, Abby is squirming, desperate for more, more or less she can't tell. It's too much and not enough. Marcus is running his fingers slowly on her swollen folds while they both tease her breasts and she can feel their breath upon her neck, her shoulders, hands roaming over her hips until she can't tell who is touching her where but neither of them are touching her where she really _needs_ to be touched. Abby aches for someone inside her, something to appease this empty feeling. “Jake, please.” she pleads into his shoulder before falling back, arched against Marcus who has taken that moment to flick his thumb over her clit again.

But Jake isn't listening to her, he's focused instead on making a show of forcing her higher and higher. _For Marcus_. She can see how they look at each other, Jake's vibrant blues looking up and catching the same shuddering ash she has seen before.

“Marcus.” The angle is hard and it strains her muscles but Abby turns her head to press a messy, desperate kiss against his mouth. “Make him, Marcus. Please.”

Marcus runs his other hand down her body, beyond her folds and spreading her open for him, knuckles grazing against Jake's protruding length along the way. “Fuck her.” Marcus is moving his hand on Jake's cock, Marcus guiding him in.

Jake has been with Abby countless times. They have years worth of lovemaking together, experience enough for Jake to know what Abby needs by the mewls of her body or how she arches when he slides in completely, stilling to savor the moment. Marcus was hard & aggressive and full of long-denied want. Jake is slower, drawing out her pleasure with long rolls of his hips. Hips that are wider than Marcus' gaunt frame, hips that spread both of them now beneath him. Each thrust moves Abby against Marcus, makes muscles clench and Marcus cannot choose between closing his eyes in pleasure or watching Jake move above them. He chooses to watch, teeth nipping at her neck, the lobe of her ear.

Abby has tears forming in her eyes at the feeling of her husband inside her and Marcus beneath her. Marcus who is whispering filthy things in her ear that Jake can't hear but it sends her back arching, pushing her closer to him, making her breasts with their hard peaks graze his chest. Marcus has both hands on them now, caressing them just as Jake showed him, working in firm circles until he reaches her rose nipples before drawing back down. Her toes are curling and Abby is sobbing at the onslaught, at climax looming so close but just out of reach.

“Jake,” she cries her husband's name again. She's clutching him desperately, nails scratching against his back as she tries to urge him to move faster. This tender lovemaking they can share later, _with Marcus_ , if he will allow himself. Now is for something else. Now is for the way her body is screaming for release, can taste it on her tongue how close she is, how she's tense and writhing with abandon as the men surrounding her tease her into a frenzy. Jake laughs and it is edged with loose tendrils of control against her neck. He's still showing off, she realizes. Her sweet, sensitive, tender, sometimes infuriatingly prideful husband is doing this as much for his pleasure, as much for her, as he is for Marcus to watch them.

In the back of her mind, in some tucked away part of her brain that isn't being strangled by oversexed sensations, she understands. Marcus came to this bed for her and it was because of her that he stayed. Jake, her gentle giant, knows that but it's not enough for him. He wants more. If they are going to have Marcus with them, it needs to be for both of them.

Abby twists her head against her husband and the position is strained and painful but it sends electricity straight down to the cock burgeoning again between them as she lets her teeth dig hard into Marcus' firm shoulder. And Marcus who was behind her is now surging upward, one hand grasping the back of Jake's head and bringing it down to kiss him.

It's sloppy and messy and it catches her husband completely off guard to feel the tongue sliding beyond his lips to duel with his own. ' _fuck_ ' someone or all of them rasp. They're all breathy and moaning and each voice resounding in throaty whimpers against each other. Abby can hear the wet sound of Jake and Marcus tasting each other. Jake drinking the lingering traces of Abby while Marcus swipes his tongue along the other man's lower lip.

Jake almost loses it right there in that moment. Feels himself dangerously close to precipice, feels the build up beginning at the base of his cock. Hips slam forward and Marcus is still kissing him. Teeth drawing along Jake's mouth, and each time Jake parts for breath Marcus pulls him back. The angle is different and it drives Jake's cock deep within Abby, hitting hard each time he surges forward.

Abby, for her part, is mess of moans and breathy whimpers with each pulse, watching her husband and their lover kiss next to her.

' _Fuck her like it's me._ ' Marcus growls into his mouth and that's it. Jake is gone, lost in a frenzy of hard fucking, cock burying deep into his wife, hips colliding over and over with hers and he knows her fair skin is going to be purpled and marred and _god so sore_ later. Tears are actually falling from her eyes and he feels the moment her peak crests, feels how achingly tight she squeezes him until it's too late because Jake and Marcus are both kissing her neck, both sucking bruises into her skin, lips occasionally entangling together again. And Jake is gone, hips stuttering against Abby as they draw out the last of his release. Marcus has two fingers toying with her clit until aftershocks send her spiraling again, ' _no no no_ ' she's sobbing openly until he's finally ready to let her down, to let her breathe.

Marcus is panting and Abby is dimly aware that his cock has grown hard again beneath her.

“Jake, he's still,” she begins but her diligent husband is already moving. She gasps as he suddenly leaves her and the air strikes her cooling skin now that he is not on top of her but it's worth it when Marcus gasps and she knows without looking that Jake has his mouth firmly affixed to Marcus' cock. Jake has always said that Abby is better with her mouth than he is but Abby begs to differ. Jake Griffin can do wondrous things when he sets his mind to a task. She feels it now in the tickle of hair against her flesh and the the way Marcus' hips are moving up and down, bringing her with him again.

“I can't, please--.” Abby pleads for mercy but as long as Jake is bobbing along his length, Marcus is teasing her with his fingers again. The two come together again, Marcus whose hips jerk forward as he spills into her husband's mouth, Abby cresting against his fingers.

Abby isn't aware of moving herself but she knows that somehow she is laying between Marcus and Jake on a bed that is easily too small to comfortably fit all three of them but they don't seem to mind. Marcus is laying in his back behind her while head rests in the crook of Jake's shoulder.

But then Jake's hand is tugging its way into Marcus' hair and grabbing the back of his head, pulling the other man to curl himself along her back. Their breathing is heavy in the quiet of the room.

“You can stay, Marcus.” Jake's voice draws in those easy, casual Jake Griffin tones somewhere above her head. Abby nods, a catlike smile spreading across her face. Her hand twists out to rest on the thigh behind her, grounding him to her, to this moment. She can already feel the tense muscles beneath her grasp.

Jake will forgive her when she twists around to face Marcus. Jake is comfortable, secure that she is not going anywhere but Marcus, despite having been a very active participant in what could easily be qualified as the best sex of her life, is still a flight risk. This is all so new and could turn sour quickly if Abby didn't take control again.

“Stay.” She kisses the hollow of his throat, arm lazily grabbing his to rest it about her waist, just beneath where Jake's arm has snaked across her middle.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day @convenientmisfires! I LOVED your request and had a lot of fun writing this. Thank you for breaking me beyond my borders and giving me the opportunity to write this! Thanks as well to chancellorgriffin/kane-and-griffin for organizing this! 
> 
> i have a personal tumblr (startyourbenjens) BUT you are much more likely to find me on my Marcus Kane RP blog! redempticnarc . tumblr . com.


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